


Things Unseen

by IlluminateandRelate



Series: I fix the end of Tokyo Ghoul [4]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Explanations, Fluff, I fix the end of TG, Mutsuki makes amends, Touka is my wife, fam yall, i got emotional writing this, my faves, why touka calls him tooru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 07:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15190085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IlluminateandRelate/pseuds/IlluminateandRelate
Summary: Mutsuki makes final amends. Finally looking at what he's done, seen.***Mutsuki sat down beside the door, tucking his knees to his chest and resting his chin on the crook between them. What was he even doing there, really? Looking for some kind of sick atonement? Kaneki wasn’t Saiko and Urie. Kaneki was- Kaneki was-“Excuse me, who are you and why have you been sitting on my doorstep for the past forty minutes?”





	Things Unseen

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I wanted to post this yesterday but I ended up finishing it really late. It's the third part in completing/tying loose ends of the Qs character arcs. I know there isn't any Mutsurie this chapter but I really think Mutsuki needs to do some things on his own.

_How do you see what you’ve been blind to?_

 

Mutsuki flexed his trembling fingers. Curling them in, out, and in again. He shifted the eyepatch over his right eye, for the fourth time in the past five minutes and sighed. Checked his coat was buttoned and redid the highest one. Scratched an itch on his arm. Rolled to the tops of his toes and back down. Read the time. Inspected his peeling cuticles. Picked at the skin on his cuticles. Told himself to stop that. Did it anyways.

“ _Do you want me to come with you?”_

_“No, it’s best if I do it myself.”_

“Stupid answer,” he cursed out loud, kicking a stray rock on Sensei- _no_ Sasakis- _not right either_ \- Kaneki’s porch off into the purple hyacinths growing in wild, unorganized bunches in the planter beds beneath the small windows of the even smaller house. He’d been standing outside the front door for at least a half an hour trying to work up the courage to knock, _to apologize_.

Now he couldn’t even do something as simple as that. Couldn’t even feel bad enough to atone for what he’d done. He really was the worst kind of person. _If he could even be called one anymore_ . Every cell of his body rebelled against his brain. _Knock_ . His left hand stayed cowering at his hip. _Ring the doorbell_. His right hand rebelled in his pocket.

Maybe he should just go. Maybe he should just leave them alone. Maybe he shouldn’t have to make them look at him. Maybe- _They’d be better off without seeing my face ever, they all would._

Mutsuki sat down beside the door, tucking his knees to his chest and resting his chin on the crook between them. What was he even doing there, really? _Looking for some kind of sick atonement?_ Kaneki wasn’t Saiko and Urie. Kaneki was- _Kaneki was-_

“Excuse me, who are you and why have you been sitting on my doorstep for the past forty minutes?”

Mutsuki froze from his spot on the ground, the porch now had a stream of golden light cast across it’s grayness from inside of the house. _When had the door been opened?_ He stood up, faltering for a moment on what to do with his hands, deciding on shoving them in his pockets before turning around.

“Oh,” Touka’s eyes narrowed and she stepped back inside to the pale wood floors of the house. In that moment, Mutsuki’s mouth felt unbearably dry. _Say something_ . He stood staring, gaping. _Do something_.

It was only when she moved to shut the door that Mutsuki cried “wait,” as if his body had been jump started to movement by the possibility closing and he jerked forward to stop the heavy thing before it reached the jamb. He winced as it slammed his fingers to the frame and cursed, withdrawing the pinched and soon-to-be-bruised digits to his chest. The pain pulsed sharp and quick even as he felt them begin to heal and he forced himself to look back up at the woman in front of him all the while.

“Please, wait” He blurted again, taking a breath before continuing “I came to talk to Sasa- _Kaneki_ , Mutsuki felt his fingers tingle for a few more moments as they healed and massaged them. He shook his hand before placing it back in his pocket.

Touka sighed, “Kaneki is working later tonight, he should be home in about fifteen minutes.” She paused, an odd sort of sour expression overtaking her face, pursing her lips as she stared past Mutsuki into the outside. He darted his eyes to and from her face as a series of thoughts flickered through her brain, noticeable from the mild rise and fall of her brows. A few more moments of anxiety induced silence passed before she finally huffed and looked back to him. “Would you like to- wait?”

Mutsuki would’ve liked to run the other direction.

 

It turned out Kaneki’s house, though somewhat shabby and beaten on the outside, was rather nice once you were in it. Mutsuki ran his hand over the soft white seudelike material of the couch, watching the shades go slightly darker or lighter depending on what angle he brushed it at. The houses interior was an odd mix of traditional Japanese design with some more western elements sprinkled about such as the furniture and the rather large and squishy armchair to Mutsuki’s left. He scooted over to look closer at it, the Chateau though furnished and modern had stayed rather minimal and Saiko had constantly complained about the furniture not having enough “give”.

“A friend bought that for me,” Touka’s sudden voice came from his left and he quickly went back to his original position on the couch, his body becoming much more rigid than it had been a few minutes earlier. She continued walking forward carrying a tray with a teapot and a few small cups and set it on the coffee table before continuing on to the chair. Sighing as she settled into it, leaning back before continuing. “Ever since the pregnancy I have terrible back pain, and she insisted this would help.”

Mutsuki nodded, an immediate image of Yoriko jumped in Mutsuki’s mind even though she hadn’t specified _who_ this female friend was. He remembered why he was there, _why_ he had come. Despite the fear he forced himself to shift his focus from the couch to Touka, his eyes catching on her large belly pushed up against her shirt. _Had he really attacked a pregnant woman? What if he’d killed her? What if he’d killed the-_ _Would he ever be able to live with himself if he had?_ No. No he wouldn’t.

The longer the silence rang out the more stiff and rigid the air became. Mutsuki shifted, looking back down to continue his cuticle massacre. He felt the ever pressing urge behind his lips to say something, to begin apologizing just as he had done with the others. Though, looking back he’d jumped into the situations then more recklessly. Perhaps it was because he knew them better, perhaps it was because unlike with Touka he hadn’t tried to kill them multiple times in a row. _What was he thinking?_

“I-” he started, pausing to collect his words. “I came for a reason,”

“I assumed,”

Mutsuki looked back to Touka as she blew the steaming top of her tea. Her face was relaxed, eyes calm and looking down, but something was off. Her posture strained, her left arm placed too perfectly over her abdomen to be natural. _She looked ready to fight._ Fight or run.

Mutsuki stomach twisted, hot nausea bubbling in his stomach at what _could’ve_ been. What Touka still thought _could_ be.

“ **Neko Dorobo** ,” he whispered quietly. Touka set her tea down with a light clink on to the table. She shifted toward him, leaning forward over her stomach.

“What?”

“That’s what I said, back then. Neko Dorobo.” Mutsuki gritted his teeth, forced himself to stay looking at her. _He knew_ . Knew he wasn’t in love with Sasaki. _Never was_. He squeezed his eyes shut, “Fucking stupid.”

By god his face was flaming hell, burning in a fiery molten mix of shame, hate, embarrassment. Burning in his skin. Burning in his brain. His eyes burning with unshed tears and _no he would not cry._ Was so, so, _tired_ of crying for himself. Over and over and over, and- The cycle of self-hate, self-pity, self-hate for pity would never end. _Please just end._

_That counted as self-pity too, didn’t it?_

Touka’s eyes were wide, a mix of alarm and confusion almost as if she didn’t quite know how to react to him. She reach down and poured a cup of tea, still being wary of distance she pushed it across the table rather than hand it to him before withdrawing quickly. He took it, ignoring the blistering heat of the cup on his hand as closed his eyes for a moment, breathed.

“What I meant was, I’m sorry.” He adjusted his weight on the cushions once again, a vain attempt to compose himself as he shoved whatever feelings he had towards himself down. _This wasn’t about him_. He had to remember it wasn’t just a crusade of apologies to make himself feel better, but to ease the minds of those around him. Those who’d been threatened, hurt, scarred, by him. He had to look those actions in the eye, to look and stare. Blindness would only lead him back down again.

He continued speaking in the ringing silence following his apology, trying desperately to fill it with noise. To prevent himself from thinking about what Touka _could_ be thinking. “I really never was, ever, affiliated with Sas- _Kaneki_ in that way.” Mutsuki shifted his gaze back to her, realizing he’d been talking to the rising steam more so than her. He gave a short laugh, “really never even felt that way. I guess I just don’t know quite what it is to feel that in the first place.”

Out of every reaction, Mutsuki could’ve assumed a smile wouldn’t have even made the list of possibilities. No. Wouldn’t even be a thought in the first place. It wasn’t strong, by all means, but it was there. A small turn of her mouths corner, her eyes kinder, lighter. He watched in awe as she bent over her large belly to pick up her teacup settled on the table. Lifting it to her lips, and taking a sip before resting it back in her other hand.

“I suppose it’s hard to explain,” she spoke, palming a strand of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear, “but, it’s not the intense need to be with them. Near them. Though I do suppose that's part of it. However, in my experience, even if you want something so _badly_ , whether it be them or their heart. If it hurts them, you would never dream of it. And that goes for both of the people as well. A bond. Almost a pact.”

Touka paused a moment, placing a hand gently atop her abdomen and sighing before taking another sip of tea. “I feel this way for Kaneki. I feel this way for whoever rests in my womb as we speak.” Mutsuki felt himself back into the cushions as her tone changed, lowered. More dangerous. _Warning_ . “I will forgive you Mutsuki, I have seen so many people change in my lifetime it has lost the element of surprise.” She sat up rigid. “If you _ever_ , hurt my family. I will make sure your entrails are strewn over each and every last inch of your room. Do you hear what I am saying?” Her eyes were narrow tunnels as she stared into his own.

His insides quivered.

“Tooru.”

“What?”

“I think you should- or I think it would benefit us both for you to call me by my first name. A sort of informal restart.” He bit his lip nervously as he set down his tea and outstretched a hand to her.

“Tooru.” She spoke, a gentle smile playing her features as she reached a free hand out to meet his.

The creak of an open door sounded and both Mutsuki and Touka swiveled their heads around to meet the sight of a familiar face. He walked over to where they sat, setting down a book on the table before going to greet Touka.

_Kaneki._

Mutsuki felt the previously expelled tension seep its way back into the air, reaching its smoky tendrils, poisoning it. Anxiety leaked into his chest and he quickly set down his now cold tea, not trusting his trembling fingers to keep ahold of something so fragile. _What does he think?_ Mutsuki hadn’t truly and personally interacted with him since- _well since forever really_ . Even as Sasaki the man had always worn the mask of a smile to hide his inner storm, whether hate or fear he claimed to feel neither. It's what had made Urie hate him so much in the beginning. What had made all the others- _Mutsuki included_ feel safe.

He had to speak. Had to speak now or he’d never have the courage.

“Kaneki-san I’m sorry to-”

“I hope you’ll forgive me for eavesdropping,” Kaneki spoke, picking up the third and empty cup from the tray Touka had bought earlier. Pouring the tea, setting his cup down, and only then looking back up. “I may have been outside the door for end-half of this conversation.”

Mutsuki looked to Kaneki, eyes wide, yet as much as he wanted to just assume Kaneki knew this part he had to see it. To say it. “I came to apologize to you and Kirishima-san,” Mutsuki said, not missing the way his voice still wavered. _Even after all of this_.

Kaneki’s face fell, “Mutsuki,” he paused a moment, seemingly trying to find exactly the right amount of words. “Though you were wrong in what you did- I think part of that was my fault. I abandoned you all, simply left.” He sighed. “I’m sorry too.”

_Things could get better._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! <3 I am beyond thrilled that people are actually reading and enjoying this series!
> 
> I have an Idea for the fourth part in this regarding this chapter and Mutsurie ;)
> 
> Let me know what questions you had at the end of TG and I'll see what I can do :)


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